


First King

by soprano_buddy15



Series: Peace After Battle [9]
Category: The Last Kingdom, The Last Kingdom (TV), The Warrior Chronicles | The Saxon Stories - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Future, History, Post Season 4, Spoilers for Season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25080385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soprano_buddy15/pseuds/soprano_buddy15
Summary: Aethelstan: First King of all England and the English
Relationships: Eadith/Finan (The Last Kingdom)
Series: Peace After Battle [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736485
Comments: 19
Kudos: 34





	First King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Java_Blythe_Peralta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Java_Blythe_Peralta/gifts), [bellwetherr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellwetherr/gifts).



> This is for my beautiful friend Java_Blythe_Peralta who is now 4 teeth less wise, and so I wanted to get this out for her to enjoy while she recovers! 
> 
> Another big shoutout to bellwetherr for being an amazing human being. Can I just say how amazing this fandom is??? I love it so much. 
> 
> I hope I was not the only one who got chills when Aethelstan was introduced in season 4? Because I actually loved that. 
> 
> Also I wrote the majority of this on an old bluetooth keyboard connected to an iPad because my computer broke, so if some things are wacky... whatever. I tried. 
> 
> Constructive comments are always welcome! Just don’t be rude, because nobody wants that.

Finan’s bones ached. 

They ached regularly now, but it was always particularly bad when the weather shifted. It did not matter whether it was summer cooling to winter, or the spring thaw blowing cool air over the fields. 

Sihtric sneezed beside him, the fresh blooming flowers of spring irritating him more and more as he aged. They were sitting in Winchester on Finan’s porch, watching the world go by.

They had lived in Winchester for a few years now, Sihtric’s small house right beside his own. Uhtred still lived in Bebbanburg with Osbert, who was now Lord and ruling for his father. Sihtric had left Dunholm, where he had ruled, after Ealhswith had passed. His own son was now ruling under Edward. 

Finan and Eadith had moved back to Coccham, and then Winchester after Sihtric had left for Dunholm. Osferth had died just after retaking Bebbanburg, and slowly, before any of them had realized, they all had moved apart. 

Finan shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and then start chuckling at their young neighbour running after his loose chicken. He nudged Sihtric and pointed, and his friend grinned. They themselves had their fair share of chicken incidents when living at Coccham. 

Winchester had changed quite a bit since their youth. King Edward had maintained his hold on Mercia and East Anglia, and trade between the three kingdoms had flourished. It was peaceful, Finan realized. While there were skirmishes here and there, it had been a few years since he and Sihtric had fought in a shield wall, and he enjoyed the time with his family. 

They were not old men, but both Finan and Sihtric found it easier to sit and watch the younger men fight for them. Sihtric still kept his seax on the small of his back, and even Finan kept his dagger by his side. Finan glanced at Sihtric. He had grown out his hair on the sides of his head, finding it easier to care for by himself. He still braided his hair with the beads that Ealhswith had gifted him, and the braids were shot through with white and grey strands of hair. Finan’s own beard and temples were quite grey now, but Eadith kept telling him it made him look “dignified,” so he did not grumble about it as much as he probably would have. 

The market place was growing louder, and Finan frowned as he saw Eadith scurry back towards them. She had gone out to get fresh vegetables, but her basket was nearly empty as she came up to them.

“What’s happening?” Finan asked, and Sihtric leaned forward to listen too. 

Suddenly, the bell in the palace started ringing. Sihtric turned to face them, alarm in his face, and Finan knew that he was thinking the same thing as they all were. 

The bells only rung for morning and evening mass, and when a king died. 

“Edward’s _dead?_ ” Finan exclaimed under his breath. Eadith nodded, looking solemn.

“He fell ill a few nights ago,” she said. “All I heard at market was gossip, but the bells just confirmed it.”

“He had not secured Northumbria,” Sihtric muttered, worry on his face. Uhtred was still in Northumbria, and while Bebbanburg was a fortress, the Saxon stronghold was just a small mark on the map of the north. Eoferwic was still under Sigtryggr’s rule, Stiorra at his side. He had never waged war on Wessex, but had not initiated any peace talks with Edward. 

“Has he named an heir?” That was the question most prominent for Finan. He had seen Aethelstan only a handful of times since he had left Coccham nearly twelve winters ago, and that was only from a distance. 

Eadith seemed to shrink further. “I’ve heard it said that Aelfweard will succeed.”

Anger rushed through Finan, and Sihtric placed a strong hand on his arm to hold him back. “After all this,” he ground out. “After all that Edward demanded of Aethelstan.”

“Aethelstan knew his duty as a son of Edward.” Sihtric said, quietly but firmly. Finan glared at him darkly. “It was never confirmed that Edward would name him heir, but Aethelstan would be prepared for it.”

Eadith looked nervously between the two men. Finan sighed. Sihtric was right. All they were told was to teach him how to be a warrior and of Northumbria. They had succeeded in that, but it still hurt Finan’s heart to think about all of those years Aethelstan could have been with them. 

“The north will be restless,” Sihtric said after he knew that Finan was not going to snap. “Uhtred will be worried.”

“Uhtred will probably just want to sit in peace,” said Finan. “He has his home back. He’s done fighting for Wessex.”

Sihtric couldn’t argue with that, but he just shared a glance with Eadith, which Finan ignored. The bells continued to ring, the sound reverberating across the city as Finan walked into his house and slammed the door behind him.

*****

The reign of Aelfweard was short. 

To the shock of Finan, Eadith, and Sihtric, less than three weeks after Aelfweard was crowned the bells were ringing once again. 

Fergus had written to Finan and Eadith, updating them of what was happening in the north. They were currently in Dunholm with Young Sihtric, but the restlessness was spreading throughout the land.

They were all sitting in Finan and Eadith’s house, Eadith scooping stew into bowls for everyone. Sihtric was nervously twisting his rings about his fingers as the uncertainty in the room grew. 

A knock at the door stopped everyone in their tracks. Slowly, Finan went to the door, and Sihtric kept a hand behind his back, no doubt resting on the handle of his seax. 

He opened the door slightly, but it fell open wider once he realized that it was a messenger from the palace. “Finan?” He asked hesitantly.

“What is it?” Finan demanded, and the messenger gulped nervously at the sight of Sihtric staring menacingly at him. 

“I have a message from Lord Aethelstan,” he said, and Finan took a step back. “He wishes to see you.”

“Aethelstan wants to see us?” He repeated softly. Eadith had let out a gasp, bringing her hands to her mouth. Sihtric placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“ _Lord_ Aethestan wants to see _you_.” The messenger emphasized by gesturing toward’s Finan, but shrunk back at the displeased expression on Sihtric’s face. 

“He just wants to see Finan?” Sihtric asked, clarifying. The messenger nodded. 

Finan was about to protest that Eadith should be coming as well, but Eadith all but shoved him out of the door. “Tell me everything,” she ordered, and gave him a long look. Over their many years of marriage, Finan and Eadith had gotten quite good at having conversations with just their expressions. Finan had seen Sihtric and his wife Ealhswith argue all the time without exchanging any words, and he always wondered how they got to the point where they could do that. 

Eadith shut the door, and the messenger gestured for Finan to start walking. The streets of Winchester were quiet - people were still in shock at how short of a term King Aelfweard had reigned. He had barely had all of the ealdormen of Wessex come and swear to him before passing.

The palace of Winchester loomed tall as they approached. Finan recalled all the times Uhtred had to sit in on a Witan, and stubbornly brought Finan along has well. It had been many years since he had walked these halls. 

“In here,” the messenger bypassed the Great Hall and took Finan down the side corridor to what used to be Alfred’s study. The great doors were still standing strong, and the messenger knocked lightly and pushed them open. 

The room was still very bright, and Finan was pleased to see that many of Alfred’s scrolls and his giant chronicle was still being stored in the room. There were many tables with maps along the edge, and little figurines were marking the location on marching armies. 

The messenger bowed out and shut the door behind him with a thud. Finan looked against the tall window, and saw the silhouette of a tall and narrow man. 

_Aethelstan._

Somehow, he had grown even more since he had left Coccham. Finan could see that his hair had gotten longer and was starting to curl around his ears. His face had lost much of the youth he had, but there was still a liveliness to the set of his shoulders that made Finan have to remind himself that Aethelstan was reaching his thirtieth year.

Aethelstan swallowed heavily, and took a hesitant step forward. “Hello Finan.” He said nervously.

Finan’s throat unstuck. “‘Finan?’’” He repeated, and also took a step forward.

Aethelstan bit his lip but met Finan’s gaze. “King Edward is my father.”

Anger coursed through Finan and he stepped right up to Aethelstan. He was much taller than Finan now, but Finan could see him shrink back a little. “To everyone else, yes. But it’s just you and me, and I will be damned if I let you call me that when we are alone.”

Aethelstan inhaled sharply, and then scrambled to wrap his arms around Finan. He buried his head in Finan’s shoulder, his breath shaky. 

Finan rested his arms on his son’s back, just holding him. After a few moments, Aethelstan stepped back, but rested his forehead on Finan’s. “Hi, son,” Finan whispered.

Aethelstan shook his head against Finan’s. “I keep thinking that this is a dream,” he whispered back. “For so many years, everything was to ensure that Edward’s line was protected.”

“Aethelstan,” Finan dared, “It’s just you and me now.”

His son inhaled deeply, and went to go and look over the papers in the room. “I was not expecting to rule,” he admitted, hands glancing over his grandfather’s chronicle. “Once Edward named Aelfweard I foolishly had hoped that I would be free.”

“Free to do what?”

Aethelstan glanced up at Finan. “Free from the palace. Free to travel to Dunholm and see Young Sihtric, to see Fergus and Domhnall.”

Finan looked around the room, remembering the number of times Alfred took advantage of Uhtred in this place. “It is hard to leave the service of the palace,” he said to Aethelstan with a smile. 

Aethelstan chuckled, but it was dry. “I especially wanted to see you,” he admitted quietly. “I always saw you in the crowd. But I was never permitted to seek you or Mother out.”

He seemed to be transfixed with his grandfather’s chronicle. No doubt Lady Aelswith had made sure that Aethelstan was aware of Alfred’s greatness. Finan could see that it weighed heavily on his mind. 

“Are you prepared?” He asked softly. 

Aethelstan shook his head. “I cannot do this.”

Finan smiled to himself, remembering that day so long ago during the Siege of Winchester. “You know,” he began, coming up beside Aethelstan. “I once heard your father say those exact same things.”

Aethelstan made a face at Finan.

“It was just before Sigtryggr exchanged you and Aelfweard for Uhtred. After he had asked Edward to choose between you.”

Aethelstan frowned, confused. “He was already king?”

“Edward had the shadow of his father standing over him. He had never truly realized the extent of difficult decisions his father had to make and was not prepared.” Finan stood next to Aethelstan and covered his hand with his own. “That you already are doubting yourself is proof that you are ready to take the crown.”

Aethelstan pondered his words for a moment, and then nodded. “I have a duty,” he said, almost to reassure himself.

“I have never had any doubt,” Finan said to his son. “I always knew that you were going to become a man worthy of following.”

Aethelstan smiled softly at Finan, and allowed Finan to hold him in his arms agin.

*****

“King Aethelstan! Rise and meet your people.” Father Hart finished anointing Aethelstan and placed his crown on his head. 

Finan, Eadith, and Sihtric were standing at the back of the hall, surrounded by guards and other nobles. Hearing a sniffling beside him, Finan looked to find tears streaming down Eadith’s face. He himself could hardly believe that they were here, at this point. Finan could still see the small boy shyly introducing himself to Finan, throwing rocks at frogs and building boats. He could see the boy that had fallen off of the barn after placing for straw on the roof, spraining his ankle and begging Finan and Eadith to let Young Sihtric stay at their place while it healed so he would not be bored. He could still see the young man that had ridden off all those years ago at Edward’s demand. 

Pride swept through Finan as the people cheered and applauded their new king. _This was his boy._ Aethelstan had quickly become his son, and had risen up through the stigma of his birth to accept his crown.

It was ironic, Finan realized, that his son was now a king. He had abandoned all belief that his family would be on the thrown after his father had abandoned him. He had resigned himself to the fact that he would be the oath man of Uhtred of Bebbanburg.

Sihtric was just smiling and shaking his head. Finan knew that he was just as proud of Aethelstan as he was. He had also watched the boy emerge from his shell and had fed Aethelstan at least five times a week when they lived in Coccham.

Looking back at Aethelstan, he was startled to see Aethelstan’s eyes on him. Finan nodded once, very slowly as a tear fell down his cheek. Aethelstan’s lips twitched towards a smile, and Finan’s heart warmed greatly as his king took the throne.

*****

“He did it,” Finan breathed as the Danes held up a tree branch. Sihtric was panting beside him, hands covered in blood.

They were at Dunholm. The Dane had declared that this would be the time to take back Danelaw to grow their hold on this island. Three years into Aethelstan’s reign, and he had responded to their threat with a fervour to rival Alfred’s.

Sigtryggr in Eoferwic had remained decidedly neutral to both cries for help. Finan supposed that it was good that he kept his promise to stay out of the fighting. 

Finan remembered the day Aethelstan had sent out messengers. He had come to their house with a small letter, requesting that he go to Bebbanburg in the north. Eadith and Sihtric had come with him, and the reunion at the gates was joyful. Uhtred was well into his sixth decade, but his eyes were bright as he embraced Finan and Sihtric as if they had just been gone for a few days. 

Aethelstan had requested fighters, and Osbert immediately sent out a response to Aethelstan. “Are you fighting?” Uhtred had asked him. He was to stay at Bebbanburg with Eadith.

“Of course,” Finan had replied. “That’s my boy.” 

Uhtred glanced at Sihtric. “And you?”

Sihtric just shrugged. “I am unsure,” he had said. Ealhswith was gone and his children were at Dunholm with their own families. He too, was tired of fighting.

But then Domhnall had come. Finan and Eadith had not seen their boys for several years, and were surprised at his abrupt arrival to Bebbanburg. 

“Sihtric Sihtricson request’s assistance.” Domhnall had slid off of his mount and went directly to Osbert. “The Danes are attacking Dunholm.”

Finan knew then that Sihtric was coming tonight. He would not lose his entire family in that place. 

Finan grabbed Domhnall’s arm before he could ride back to Dunholm. Domhnall had pulled him and Eadith into a hug. “I have to go and help him,” he had said.

“Go and find Aethelstan,” Finan had explained. “Tell him to meet us at Dunholm.”

That had been five days ago. They had marched and marched with the men of Bebbanburg to Dunholm, and meeting Aethelstan’s army, had engaged the army attacking Dunholm.

It had been decades since Finan had been in a fight like this. Tettenhall had been very similar. Yet somehow, after all of this time, it came back to him incredibly fast. Sihtric fought directly beside him, their fighting fluid as they protected each other. 

And now, they were standing at the top of the hill looking towards Dunholm. Young Sihtric had opened the gates and attacked from the other side, keeping the Danish army in the middle. The leader had found a tree branch and was waving it up in the air. 

Finan watched Aethelstan approach, Young Sihtric and Osbert at his side. 

“That looks like us,” Sihtric remarked, and Finan laughed in agreement.

“Just missing the baby monk.”

They slowly made their way towards the front, pushing through the throngs of men.

Aethelstan was talking with the Danish commander quietly. Aethelstan was standing tall, but Finan could see that he was favouring his left leg. The Danish commander had obviously gotten a beating, and was eyeing Young Sihtric’s axe warily. Finan felt a surge of pride go through him for Sihtric’s son. 

“Kjeld Bertelson!” Aethelstan yelled suddenly, over the crowds of men. They all fell silent. “Do you submit to the kingdom of Wessex and agree to hold the peace of a United England?”

The field, just moments earlier alive with battle, was silent as a grave. “I do,” the Dane said.

Aethelstan nodded his head in respect to the Dane. “Then we have an accord.”

Osbert raised his weapons in the air and began cheering, Young Sihtric doing the same. Sihtric the Elder was clapping Finan on the back, but Finan only had eyes for his son. 

To say he was proud was an understatement. There were no words that could describe how he felt right now.

His son. The king to succeed in Alfred’s dream of an England. The first king to conquer all four of the kingdoms. The first king of all England and the English.

**Author's Note:**

> So I actually did research for this fic (Shocking, right?), and handy-dandy Wikipedia said that Aelfweard might have reigned for a few weeks before the crown was passed to Aethelstan. Aethelstan was only 33 when he united England.


End file.
